Noble thoughts and wishful thinking
by Sealskin
Summary: A certain Faun is haunted by feelings for his Queen.
1. Chapter One

Noble thoughts and wishful thinking

**Author's note:  
**As many have noticed, at least I think they have, I'm started to revise the tale a little. A year ago (yes, a year, shame on me) I carelessly threw this tale here on , not really caring how it looked or if it had any errors.  
And obviously, I really am ashamed for my lack of interest in this story. Tumnus and Lucy do deserve much better!

So I'm editing a little, revising the tale here and there, making it longer at some points, or shorter.  
And I'm apologizing for all those people who have actually faved the story!  
I'm so surprised, because this tale was actually more or less for fun! I didn't really pay any real attention to what I was writing!

But, I will try to do my best now and add a few new chapters soon.  
And of course they'll include Oreius and Susan, I mean, duh. Those two are made for each other. Just like Lucy and Tumnus.

And how on Earth could I have written Lucy the Gentle smacks self I art ashamed, I truly art…

Anyways, hang on everybody! I promise I'll add a new chapter soon!

**Noble thoughts and wishful thinking.**

The Lamppost, it had been a very long time since he had seen the elegant iron pole standing in the middle of the wood, now blooming and alive, not cold and frozen as last he had seen it.  
He had met her here, for the very first time. It had been a coincidence, but thankfully, not a regrettable one.  
He had been on his way to his home, carrying food and all kinds of stuff he had traded and purchased from the animals of the wood, who were always happy to trade, sell and buy, especially at those days. The frozen days, where the forest was covered with snow and ice, where food and company, loyal company was scarce.  
He had not been loyal, he had been scared, but here at the very lamppost he had found something which resembled hope, although the hope was very tiny at the time.  
The Lamppost had been where he had met her, his own little hope. So cute, and friendly and forgiving. Valiant little Lucy.  
He had to admit that his thought had been everything but friendly at first. Of course he had been surprised, and then shocked.  
Then his mind had wandered, thinking about the possibilities her presence could bring. After all, had the Witch not asked to bring any human to her? It would secure his safety, and perhaps it would bring peace to the land long suppressed by cold and evil.  
After all, if the Humans no longer posed a thread, the Witch would most certainly calm down.  
But things had turned out differently.  
He had taken her to her home, feigning friendship to lure her into his house. He gave her tea and cookies, and all the goods all little children liked, and at last he had proposed to play a song for her. Of course it lulled her to sleep, it was a lullaby, and as she lay there he conceived that the opportunity had come for him to take her to the Witch.

But as he saw her laying there, vast asleep, softly snoring like only small children could his heart broke. He could not give her to the Witch, not in his entire lifetime. His heart cried that it would rather die than give such an innocent little girl to such evil as the Witch.  
He had studied her in the light of the fire. Her chubby cheeks, her brown hair, her closed eyelids. She would be a beauty beyond compare when she grew up, a true Queen.  
He did not have the heart to take her away, her beauty, her kindness, her future. So he did nothing, feeling guilty and utmost ashamed as she slept silently.  
He had felt so ashamed.

But the prophecy had come true. Narnia survived the onslaught of winter, the Witch had been beaten in a marvelous battle. Fauns, Satyrs, Centaurs and all the talking animals had fought for their freedom.  
While he stood in the courtyard of stone, frozen in stone himself. It had been because of the grace of Lucy and Aslan that he returned to life to see a new Narnia.  
Dear little Lucy, so kind and friendly, she had indeed been valiant. He simply knew it, although he had never actually witnessed the battle, or seen the miracles which happened during his absence.  
She had made a beautiful queen, the youngest of the four. One of the Daughters of Eve, sister to the Sons of Adam. He had met Edmund before, seen him in the dungeon. He had pitied him, young and innocent like his sister, although slightly older. He had learned from his mistakes, he had forgiven the boy.  
Edmund the Just. The name fitted him well.  
Susan. He had instantly liked her, she was wise beyond her years. She was kind and warm, and she cared for her brothers and sister. Susan the Gentle, they could not have picked a better name.  
Peter. He had been in awe with Peter. He was just a boy, the oldest of the four yet not yet an adult. But already courageous, wise and cunning. He would truly be the greatest king of all, and he felt honoured to serve him. Peter the Magnificent. He could not think of a better title.

And he, he was chosen as the main advisor of the Kings and Queens of Narnia. A great honor, certainly for a Faun who had thought at first to give the youngest of the four to the coldest of Witches. But she had forgiven him, and in time he had forgiven himself.  
And he had been her finest advisor and best friend. She had often relied on him, even for the smallest of things. Which dress did fit her well? He had always liked the auburn one, it matched her hair, making her look like autumn. He loved autumn, it meant hot chocolate and it made you look forward to winter and snow.  
Good snow, for once, not everlasting snow. Snow which would disappear after a while, together with the snowman, or faun you made.  
She liked autumn as well, the falling leaves, the beautiful color whom she liked to paint. In his eyes she could paint very well, but she was never satisfied. He kept each and every painting she threw away.  
Through the years she grew and grew, into the fine young woman she was now. He could no longer pick the dresses she had to wear, she wanted to, but he had refused. He could no longer look at her with all honesty and say that she did nothing to him. She often pulled at his scarf in a playful manner, as she had done when she had been younger, but now it did not only make him laugh, it also made him blush.  
She was turning into a beautiful woman, perhaps a bit of a tomboy, not as ladylike as her older sister but he loved it.  
He loved to run across the fields with her right on his heels trying to catch him, as he led her away from the castle, and the worries which always came with being a queen.  
In time, she became more beautiful than any of the Kings and Queens of Narnia, more beautiful than her sister Susan, more noble than her brothers.  
In time he started to notice that he could no longer sleep when she was away from the castle, away on some mission or when she had a task to do. He started to miss her whenever she was not around, longing for her presence, her smile, her eyes.  
All his thoughts soon turned to the beautiful Lucy Pevensie, and he felt ashamed, very much ashamed. Perhaps just as ashamed when he had realized that he could not give her to the Witch.  
She was a Queen, and above that, she was human. His love for her was futile, his longing to be with her perverse.  
She trusted him, she trusted their friendship. He could no longer think straight whenever she playfully tugged at his ears of scarf, or when she asked which dress she should wear for a certain occasion, or when she just asked to share lunch together.  
Everything suddenly seemed linked, every action she took a sign that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.  
And he wanted her so bad, choking him, making him feel ashamed.

He started to avoid her company, leaving other advisors in his stead. He did this with the utmost care. He did not wish her to think that he did not wanted to be with her anymore.  
He did wished to be with her, but his intentions were no longer pure, his thoughts no longer innocent. He could not lay her bare to his perverse mind. Not his beautiful, innocent, beautiful, adorable, beautiful Lucy. His everything. Every breath he took, every step he made, it was all for her.  
But it could not be. Humans and Fauns did not mingle, could not mingle.  
Finally he noticed that the time had come, a chance had shown itself. Lucy had left Cair Paravel together with her brothers and sister, some land needed their aid. He usually didn't come long on journeys far away. He could ride no horse, and he was too slow, his legs could not carry him as fast as horse legs could carry his beloved Lucy.

He had left Cair Paravel, at night, so no one noticed him leaving. He made sure no bird or beast saw him. He traveled all the way through Narnia. Past the broken stone table, the battlefield. He even came past the house of Mr. And Mrs. Beaver.  
But he did not knock on their door, he kept walking.  
It was autumn, and leaves had already started to fall. The forest had turned bright red, brown, some yellow and green, leaves were scattered on the floor. Lucy's season, his season. Their season.  
Not anymore.  
He had soon reached his old house, the small cozy cave. The door was still open, his belonging old and still tattered as wolves had attacked his home long ago. He could make new furniture, his bed was still intact, the fireplace would still burn.  
Yes, here he could live the rest of his years, or Lucy's years. No one needed to know he was here.  
Lucy was safe now. Safe from him and his ridiculous love. She would not miss him, he had made sure of that. He had left enough Fauns to replace his duties, to aid her in her dress choice, what she wanted for lunch, or which horse she had to ride for which hunt.  
She no longer needed him, not as he needed her.  
He sat down in the old chair before the fireplace, the seat torn, but he did not notice. All he noticed were the tears running down his cheeks, the sobs escaping his throat, his broken heart pounding in his ears.  
It was better this way, much better. She was a queen, he was a Faun, it was better this way.  
He loved her, she could not love him.  
It was better this way.  
It became a tantrum in his head.  
It was better this way, way way better.  
He already missed her, already missed her so much.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter two

**Chapter two**

The Lamppost, it had been many years since she had seen the elegant iron pole standing in the middle of the wood. The very first thing she had seen from Narnia. She had no idea why she had to think of the lamppost now, perhaps because it resembled the very first time when she had seen mister Tumnus.  
She had only been a young girl back then, barely reaching his waist as she looked at him from behind the lamppost. She remembered trusting him instantly, even thought he looked funny, according to her. She had come from a world where Fauns only existed in myth.  
He had seemed startled when he had first saw her, which had taken away her first fright. He had dropped the packages he had carried and out of sheer fright.  
The will to do something good had made her pick them up for him. He had given her a quick smile, seemingly very nervous. He had instantly gained her trust as he seemed more afraid of her than she of him. She had not gotten the name Lucy the Valiant for nothing, although at that time she was not yet the Queen of Narnia. It was her valiant attempt to make him feel at ease while he obviously had no idea whom he had met, or what he had met.  
She remembered that they were both a bit suspicious, but it all changed when he invited her to come along to his house, at least she had thought that he would take her to a house. Cave seemed more appropriate, but it was cosy and warm.  
She remembered that he was very kind, it was hard not to like him especially after he offered her tea and cookies and a place to sit. He was her first friend in Narnia, although many would follow.

Silly mister Tumnus, with his scarf, always trying to look at his finest. Especially at the coronation.  
He became her most trusted advisor, although she asked his advice more to have him close than that she actually needed his advice. She saw him as her best friend, one she couldn't do without. He encouraged her while she painted in the afternoon, struggling with the any colours autumn displayed. She remembered feeling unsatisfied, while he coaxed her with relentless enthusiasm to do her best, even if she felt like throwing away the painting she had worked so hard upon. She knew he had kept them all since she had started painting, she didn't know if he know, be she knew and that was enough.  
She had always found comfort in his presence, when her brothers and sister were too busy or away. He had always been there, an object of comfort whenever she was scared or lonely. He had helped her pick the right dress whenever she didn't want to go to the feast her siblings wanted go give. He always stayed calm whenever she had her fits or whenever she sulked, knowing it would pass soon enough when the feast would start.  
He was there when Peter and Edmund left on a mission to the South, when Susan proved to be no pleasant company as she always tried to make the better queen out of Lucy. He would take her on walks, instantly taking her mind away from the boring classes Susan and mrs. Beaver tended to give 'for her own good.' They would stay away for hours, hiding in the woods, talking with the dryads and all the forest animals, while he would take the blame as soon as they returned to Cair Paravel, standing besides her while Susan scolded at her for being lazy. He winked at her, grinning behind Susan's back. It always made her feel better.

He would let her chase him over the field, while she had to practice her bow skills with Oreius and soon she would find herself in the forest again, safe from all the grown-ups trying to force their ideals and tasks upon her. He was always her greatest protector, eventhough it was Oreius who took pride in protecting the royal Kings and Queen of Narnia.  
He gossiped with her, gossiping about the Satyr maid and the Centaur stableman, what they had done without anyone's notice. He kept her up to date with everything that happened around the castle, telling her ancient tales of the land and sometimes about his own youth.  
She could not wish for a better companion than her mister Tumnus.  
But time went on and so did Lucy's age. She grew and grew and started to look more and more like a woman. She started to notice that Tumnus no longer handpicked her dresses, preferring to wait in the room whenever she needed to change dresses for a feast or banquet. He no longer wanted to play the games they had so often played, picking the most ugly of dresses while mrs. Beaver so frantically tried to make her choose another. He began to excuse himself more and more, leaving her to play that game with mrs. Beaver who made no sport out of it all. She had no idea how she developed, growing more and more into the beautiful woman she would once be. She had no clue why mister Tumnus refused to aid her whenever she climbed a tree.  
Confused by this, wondering why mister Tumnus no longer sought her company Lucy asked mrs. Beaver why she suddenly dressed her now, why mister Tumnus no longer helped picking the dresses. The sudden nervousness of mrs. Beaver almost made her pity the poor mrs. Beaver but she wanted an answer.

Mrs. Beaver tried to explain how Lucy had grown into the fine young woman she had become, a pretty one at that. She tried to explain why it was inappropriate for mister Tumnus to be in her room whenever she changed dresses but mrs. Beaver was talking to deaf man's ears. Or a deaf girls' ears.  
Of course she did not understand, having just grown into a young woman with her mind still full of little girl's frivolities. She was still just a girl, now angry because mister Tumnus no longer wanted to play the game with her. She remembered not talking to him for a week even though she had never seen mister Tumnus look more miserable. Susan said it was unfair, saying that mister Tumnus only did the right thing by following the unwritten rules.  
But still, she felt rejected as mister Tumnus started to distance himself more and more, sometimes even refusing to keep her company as she tried to capture the autumn colours with her paint.But she soon discovered that life without Tumnus proved to be difficult and it didn't took long before she started to talk to Tumnus again.  
Although she never apologized.  
Yet, neither did he.

It didn't take long before even her teenage years flew past and she began to look and feel more like a woman. More duties piled upon her as her eighteenth birthday came closer, the magical age where she would finally become a queen, rightfully equal to Susan.  
Of course, she had always been a Queen, since the day Aslan had crowned her Lucy the Valiant. Yet she had always been the child, the young girl, and peter allowed her to be a young girl and had therefore never really given her the tasks he gave Susan and Edmund.  
promising her he wouldn't, until she would become eighteen, and truly an adult.  
She got different tasks as the fourth Queen, more and more responsibilities as her eighteenth birthday neared, and in everything Tumnus was her most entrusted advisor. He had not changed one bit since the day she had met him, something she wondered about from time to time but never for too long. Somehow it seemed only normal that mister Tumnus did not age, although she still had no idea how old Fauns could become.  
He was always there, smiling at her in a reassuring way when she needed support, backing up her plans and ideas if Edmund proved to be difficult, always standing besides her whenever she needed to make a difficult decision.

But things had changed. No longer did he let her run after him through the fields, instead he offered his arm with the most charming of smiles, taking her on a walk. She was puzzled by this behaviour at first and asked Susan about it. She said it was how a gentleman behaved and she was pleased to see that Tumnus acted accordingly to the rules.  
Lucy did not tell Susan about the flower she had been given by mister Tumnus, the deep red poppy whom he had found in the fields as they had walked towards Cair Paravel. She did not tell Susan about the smile Tumnus had given her, and the warm feeling which had entered her heart. She had hidden it, tried to dry it, keeping it secret between the pages of one of her many books.  
She wondered if Tumnus knew that she still had it, but she instinctively knew Susan would make a problem out of it, so she kept still.  
But while she kept the poppy hidden, she started to notice that Tumnus more and more started to shove off his duties to other Fauns, disappearing sometimes altogether. Even at times she had to ask the advice of Fauns she had never seen before, and she began to wonder.  
She was growing more and more worried, whenever she inquired about his health he said fine, if she asked if something was the matter he said there was nothing wrong, and as he created a distance she began to look forward to the Grande Ball, the feast which would be held for her eighteenth birthday, because that would mean that he would have to be at her side. Because she would accept no other.  
Susan spoke of it with pride, always telling her how much time and effort had been put in the ballroom, how many Fauns, Satyrs, Dryads and Centaurs had worked on it. Mrs. Beaver had started to sew her dress months ago, proclaiming she would make the prettiest ball dress ever.  
For her it was just an opportunity to see and talk to Tumnus, after he had stopped visiting her altogether. The only times when she saw him was when she needed his advice, when no other Faun or Centaur could help her.

The gigantic ballroom had been changed into a forest so the Dryads could attend the feast, grass was growing to protect the marble floor against the hooves of the Centaurs but it made dancing on heels hell on Narnia, or so Lucy discovered all to quickly.

She had asked, begged Susan if she could not wear her daily slippers, but Susan had replied that slippers were not fit for a queen. She had asked Peter, but he had replied that a queen was supposed to wear heels.  
She had wanted to complain, object even, but her attention had been turned away from her brother as mister Tumnus had entered the ballroom, had bowed for her and her brother and kissed her hand. She had fallen silent, had smiled at mister Tumnus as if words had suddenly fled her mind.  
It had made Peter laugh, even joke at the both of them before a satyr had demanded his attention. Lucy had been glad for the diversion, for she had noticed the blush on Tumnus' cheeks, and he no doubt, the blush on her cheeks.  
Perhaps she could've known what was happening between them, but she had shrugged it off foolishly. Laughed along with Peter.  
if only she had known, if only she had guessed, if only she had acted on what she had felt.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter three

**Chapter three**

It had been for a reason that she had not taken Philip or any of the other horses that could speak. She needed no one to reason with her as she rode through the final gate of Cair Paravel, leaving stunned guards behind her. Philip would probably reason with her, trying to talk her back into the ballroom where she would be crowned Queen.  
She didn't want reason, she realised as she rode down the path covered with red, brown and yellow leaves. She only wanted to talk to the Faun who had left the palace that night, before any of them could have missed him.

It was autumn and she remembered that she had left her easel in the garden. She had not had the time to take it inside and for a moment she worried that the painting would perish in the rain.  
But if she turned around now she would not get another chance to leave and the painting seemed unimportant, although she had almost finished it.  
The mare with the chestnut coat listened to her perfectly, finding her way through the trees an across the slippery path so well that Lucy guessed that it had been one of Edmund's mares. Philip had shouted after her to be careful with her, but now the young mare was nothing than something that would get her to Tumnus.  
The mare left the print of her hooves on the path, Lucy realised. It wouldn't take Oreius or one of the Satyrs long to find her if she continued to ride down the path and she didn't wished to be found. Not yet.  
She slowed the mare, looking down the path while she tried to remember where she was.  
Occasionally Oreius would take her and Susan for a ride, but they would never go far from Cair Paravel. Edmund had taken her with him once or twice, but she could not remember where they had went. They had been too busy talking, laughing, with mr. Tumnus in their wake as they had galloped across the plains surrounding Cair Paravel, with Philip and one of his sons. She hadn't cared for where they had went, and now she regretted that she hadn't paid attention to their surroundings.  
It was her guess that the path would not lead her directly to the lamppost, that it would actually lead her away from it. The lamppost was her assurance that she was heading in the right way.  
It nearly made her growl in frustration that she wasn't sure, that she had too guess. Life in Cair Paravel had been so easy, with Susan looking after her, Edmund always watching over her safety, Peter always ready with advice and kind words.  
She had not realised how cocooned her life had been at the grand castle. While she had always thought that she was the wildest of the four, she had actually been the one who had been most shielded from the outside world.  
And in a way, that wasn't a bad thing. She loved her siblings, and they loved her. They had wanted only the best for her, but now she saw what their upbringing had done to her; she didn't even know the way in her own Kingdom, in Narnia, while she had lived there for years.  
The mare halted as she sensed her rider's confusion and doubt, not sure herself of where to go. Lucy signed, rubbed her temples. She needed to think, not about the past, or what she hadn't learned. She had to use logic, common sense, just like her older sister. She had to get away from Cair Paravel, she was still too close to the castle. Oreius would find her in no time at all if she didn't kept on riding. That was a priority, so she urged the mare on, and the mare gladly obeyed. Her hooves pounding on the dirt road as Lucy steered her down the path; calling on all her common sense as she tried to form a plan in her head. Like Susan would've done.  
The first thing she needed to do was find the lamppost, she would remember the landscape then, it would lead her to mister Tumnus' cave.  
the lamppost was quite on the other side of Narnia, but she remembered the road leading to the lamppost, and she vaguely remembered how to get to Tumnus's cave from there. It was logical to start from there, or so she reasoned with herself. If she just kept on riding, she would find something she recognised, and go from there.

Luckily for Lucy she quickly found out where she was, in which direction she had steered her horse, although it had been sheer luck. It wasn't until she went down the path that she actually remembered where she was. It was no wonder for she had no been on the path for years. The trees had grown bigger, the grass higher, but she still remembered it as Aslans' camp. It brought some pleasant memories, from Aslan whom she had not seen in years of thought of in months, to Oreius and his guard trying to teach her and her siblings all they needed to know to protect themselves from the White Witch.

Her hand went to the elegant leather belt she worn over her pale green dress. The small dagger with the golden lion's head welcomed her touch. The flask was no longer full of the elixir Father Christmas had given her that faithful day, but the flask still hang from the belt if only to remember her what had happened the day of the battle.  
Memories, they were treacherous. They brought her to mister Tumnus again, frozen like stone in the yard of the Witch. How her heart had felt like it had been torn apart as she saw the look on his stone face. It had hurt her beyond believe.  
Like it had hurt her to find that he had gone away, without even a word of goodbye.  
Lucy picked up the reigns of the mare, gently pushing her heels in the side of the horse as it needed no more coaxing to break into a gallop, feeling her riders determination, although she had no idea where her rider would take her.

When they had travelled from the house of the Beavers they had been on foot and it had taken them perhaps a day or two. On horseback it had to be possible to reach the lamppost in even half a day. Lucy glanced at the sky, grey rain clouds were gathering. Perhaps she would be in time to reach mr. Tumnus house before it would begin raining as well.  
She tried to be optimistic, hoped the sun would continue to shine, because she wasn't wearing the appropriate clothing for nasty weather conditions. In fact, the only function the dress had she was wearing now, was to be pretty, nothing more. It couldn't withstand the rain, or warm her when a cold wind blew.  
So she silently hoped it would stay dry, knowing that her hopes were in vain as she saw the grey clouds gathering.  
The rain had started to fall softly at first, dampening her cloak and dress as Lucy rode past the once Frozen Lake. It made riding uncomfortable as the dampened dress constricted her legs, making the saddle slippery against her bare legs. She hadn't had the time to find any more suitable clothing when she left the castle and now she regretted that she had not taken that chance. Her knees hurt as they scoured past the leather of the saddle. She had lost her shoes, and the iron stirrups hurt her bare feet but bounced against her shins as she took her feet out. She had crossed them before the saddle, but it did not make things more comfortable for her knees.  
She had promised herself that she would take a rest when she reached the western woods, or perhaps Rock Bridge. As soon as she would be in the woods itself she would let the mare go and let her find her own way. It was probably already to obvious that she had taken this route, the only route she knew that led towards the lamppost.  
But she had not yet heard the sound of hooves that could meant that Oreius was on his way, or Edmund and Philip. She hadn't heard anything yet, save the rustle of leaves and birds.  
As she pondered why she had not be found yet, the rain began to pour, not listening to the startled cry of the future queen as her dress soaked in no time at all, goose bumps covering her arms as the rain was cold, making the dress clammy.

She urged the mare into a gallop again, hoping she would reach the forest soon, hoping that the trees had just enough leaves yet to shield her from the pouring rain.  
She had left the mare in a clearing, releasing her of her reigns and saddle. Lucy had taken all she needed from the saddle, leaving it in the clearing itself. She had taken some biscuits and bread from the kitchen, not knowing how long she would be on her way.  
The mare had looked at her in a pondering way, as if she did not know Lucy would leave her there.  
"Go one now," Lucy had said, pushing the mare away. "Go back if you will, or stay here. I don't care." The mare had looked at her in dismay. "I can't take you with me," Lucy had tried to explain. "Go on, I won't be gone forever. Tell Philip I'll be back soon enough."  
The name of the talking horse had caught the mare's attention and she hummed as only mares could. She turned around on her hind legs, spurting away before Lucy could take a step back.  
The mare was gone so soon that Lucy wondered what the relationship between the mare and Philip was, perhaps father and daughter. It would've explained Philip's warning.  
If she was the daughter of Philip, she would return to Cair Paravel soon enough and tell her father where she had left Lucy.  
Lucy smiled, she wasn't going to let them get her so easily. She bound the little package of bread and biscuits to her belt and started walking on her bare feet through the icy mud.

She thought she remembered the way now, she would find the lamppost just after that turn…  
But there was no lamppost after the turn, just more trees.  
Lucy glanced back, seeing the exact same road behind her. She had thought that she had known where she was, but now that everything looked the same she was not so very sure.

She wasn't even so sure whether she was in the Western Woods. For a moment she regretted letting the mare go, but she reasoned that the mare probably didn't know the way either.  
She didn't feel like returning to Cair Paravel with shoulders hanging while she had to explain why she bolted off. She rather wanted to be turned into stone than to explain that she had ran after mister Tumnus, and why she had run after mister Tumnus. It wasn't an option, so she kept on walking.  
She was in the woods, which was quite something considering she didn't know the way. The Woods weren't endless so she had to find something she recognised soon enough. She tried t picture mister Tumnus' face if he saw her standing on her doorstep. It brought a smile to her face and she found to courage to keep walking, hoping that she would reach mister Tumnus' cave soon enough.

Her feet hurt, but she wasn't sure whether her feet were hurting. They were icy cold as she kept on walking through the stream, cleaning them of the mud and leaves she had picked up during the walk. The underside of her dress was practically ruined and she could already hear mrs. Beaver mourning over the loss of the dress. Lucy didn't care, she would care for a nice warm bath or a nice warmed bed where she could sleep. Her feet were aching as the ice-cold water from the mountains washed over her feet. The water was still reasonable high so it was Lucy's guess that the beaver dam had hold even though the Beavers no longer lived near the dam.  
If she could reach the Beaver house, she would know where she was. She had crossed the stream three times already while the rain kept pouring down. Her muscles were aching all over, protesting as she grabbed hold of a branch, pulling herself out of the stream.  
But fate played a cruel trick on her as the branch was slippery and her hands were wet. She let out a scream as she lost her grip, falling backwards in the water before the stream swallowed her up completely.  
The water had felt cold to her feet, but now as it surrounded her completely it felt as if her breath was knocked out of her lungs, as if she was being stabbed by a thousand knives.  
She fought against the water, forcing her head above the water to take a breath and scream. She swallowed water before she could make a sound, as the undercurrent pulled her under.  
It was the moment that she thought that she didn't have the strength anymore to poke her head out of the water for the last time her body bumped in on something.  
It was a wall of wood and the pressure of the water pushed her against it. She tried to find her grip, forcing, climbing her way up until she breathed fresh air again. Even in the pouring rain she could recognise the dam instantly. She had not know she had been so close already. The Beavers dam.

When she would return to Cair Paravel she would tell the Beavers how they had accidentally saved her life, but for now she could only laugh a shaky laugh as the dam kept her where she was.  
With all the strength she had in her frozen arms she began to pull herself out of the water, ripping the green dress as it got stuck in the dam. She didn't feel sorry for it as it made it easier for her to climb out of the water.  
She could not believe her luck as she shakily got to her feet. The house of the Beavers had collapsed long ago under the weight of the wolves and the Beaver family had never tried to repair it. They had been content at the Cair Paravel and swimming in the pond. It would be no use to her, but at least she knew where she was. She reasoned that she would be at the lamppost perhaps in an hour, or an hour and a half. She could manage that, even the rain felt warm in comparison to the water.  
She began walking down the slippery damn, now and then crouching down as she almost lost her balance. The thought of mister Tumnus' tea and fire kept her up, as she hoped that he would have some tea. Hopefully he would. She could no longer felt the weight of the bread at her belt and reasoned that she had lost it. But it didn't matter, she wasn't hungry and she would be at the home of TUmnus soon enough. She could hold on for so long.

She could not have imagined that the Lamppost would bring so many memories back to live. It had been colder the moment she had first seen it, the lamppost. It had been surrounded by white snow, but she couldn't recall whether she had felt any colder than she did now.  
It was where she had seen mister Tumnus for the first time. She had been surprised at first, scared perhaps because of his funny legs and his weird ears. She had never seen anyone like him before. But he had seemed as scared of her as she of him, she couldn't feel any fear after he had started mumbling about how sorry he was. She had picked up some packages and he had invited her to his home.  
It had been the beginning of everything, their meeting.

The beginning of her brothers reign as king, and her sister's reign as queen. Her reign of queen, even though unofficially. It had been the beginning of the end for the White Witch, the end of the Winter.  
So much had happened after she had seen the lamppost for the first time, she could not even recall everything. It was still burning, softly while the rain clashed against the glass of the lamp itself. She knew where to go now, and a quick laugh escaped her lips.  
She would think again before leaving Cair Paravel so quickly, without looking at the sky what weather it would be. But it was just who she was, doing without thinking to help others or seek others out. Just like during the battle while she had walked among enemy and friends to heal all that had perished.  
Lucy dropped her cloak near the lamppost, finding that it's weight had more become a nuisance than a help in it's soaked state.  
She began stumbling in the direction where she knew she would find mister Tumnus' cave, although there was no more snow. She instantly recognised the trees surrounding the path, the road down to mister Tumnus' door, even the silhouette of the little stone mountains that formed mister Tumnus' home. She smiled brightly, despite her numb face and the rain pouring down her hair and eyes. She broke into a small run as the wooden door got closer. He had repaired it, or made a new one perhaps. It even had a little iron lion as a doorknob.  
"Mister Tumnus!" She knocked on the wood and was shocked at her own lack of strength. Her hand formed a first and she tried again, pounding on the wood with all her mind while her frozen body tried to comply. For a split moment she feared he was not at home, but she continued knocking, forcing the fingers of her left hand to grab the doorknob to see whether the door was open.  
She heard steps, hooves on stone in a hurried pace and she did a step back. The thought that perhaps the cave was now occupied by someone else crossed her mind and for a moment she began to wonder what other places mister Tumnus could have gone too, but the door swung open and a familiar face stared down at her. She couldn't help but laugh a little as she saw his stunned face, his gasping mouth as he probably couldn't believe as it was her standing on his doorstep.

"Lucy!" he gasped, pushing the door further open before he looked at her again. "Lucy, what are you doing here?"  
She couldn't help it as she stumbled forward, practically throwing her wet form in his embrace.  
"You were gone without saying goodbye," She said through clattering teeth. "I've come to get you back!"  
"In this weather?!" He felt nice and warm and dry and she closed her eyes for a moment, she hadn't realised that she was that tired. "You're soaked, you're frozen, Lucy!?" She enjoyed his warm embrace for a moment before she thought that everything was all right now. She already looked forward to his warm tea, perhaps he had a blanket or two. She didn't know whether he had a dry and warm dress somewhere?


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter four

**Chapter four**

"It couldn't be anymore beautiful – I can't take it in."

Can't take it in – Imogen heap: Narnia Soundtrack

What had brought her to the lamppost?  
It had been his first thought when he had first seen her many years ago. It had surprised him that such a little girl dared to wander alone in Narnia, completely oblivious to the dangers around her, even daring to help a stranger she had never seen before.  
And now she had done it again, crossing the entire land on Narnia, just say goodbye to him?  
She had ridden on horseback in a dress not suited to ride horses in, her knees were scoured as she hadn't worn proper trousers underneath the dress. She had gone on, on bare feet when she apparently had lost her horse. What had gotten into her that she did not stay ay Cair Paravel, at the day of her coronation none the least?  
He had been surprised to say the least to see her on her doorstep, with a ruined dress, completely soaked as the rain had left nothing dry on her body, with the brightest smile on her lips while she said she had come to get him back..

What had gotten into her?

She was soaked, frozen and she had practically collapsed on his doorstep. He had always known that she was a spontaneous girl, but what she had done had even surprised him. He had never expected this of his Lucy.  
His Lucy.  
When had he started to think of Lucy as his Lucy?  
"Lucy?" He had laid her shivering form before the fire, wrapped in blankets and all the furs he could find to make a comfortable bed. A warm bed.  
She had a fever, she was cold, she was coughing. He had not expected less after the storm which Narnia had suffered. The day it had begun, the day of Lucy's coronation, he had been happy that Lucy would be safe at Cair Paravel. Had she not heard of the storm, or had she refused to believe that it would be that bad?  
"Lucy?" He knelt down besides the furs, laying a hand on her forehead. She was cold and warm at the same time, abnormally pale. She hadn't spoken a word since he had wrapped her in the blankets, only waking now and then, looking up at him as if she had expected all along that he would be there.  
He wondered how long it would take Oreius to figure out where she had gone off too. It had been two days since the day of the coronation.  
Perhaps the rain had erased all traces of the young Queen, perhaps the horse had not returned to Cair Paravel. Perhaps they didn't think she would come to his house.  
He hadn't expected it, why would they?  
He had tried so hard to get away from her, trying to create a distance between the both of them. Now she had simply followed him home like a love sick puppy.

He sighed, sitting down besides the sleeping Lucy, eyeing her face with tenderness. It had been perhaps been a silly idea, that he could simply leave without saying goodbye as she had put it. Of course she would miss him. He didn't know whether he had to feel anger because she had practically risked her life to follow him, or feel something of pride that she had done it. He couldn't imagine anyone else doing the same. It was something only Lucy could do.  
She seemed to be asleep, peacefully for now. She had not granted him much sleep either, keeping him awake as she tossed and turned underneath the furs, talking incoherently while he tried to keep her still, trying to keep her from rolling into the fire.  
It was not the first time she had had a fever. She had been sick before, he had always been by her side while she was young and lying in her bed, feeling miserable while the sun shined outside and she wasn't able to get out of bed. Lucy hated being sick.

But he hadn't seen her being sick so bad. The cough came from deep, making her voice hoarse whenever she did try to speak in her feverish dreams. It scared him, because he couldn't leave her alone to find help, that he couldn't leave her alone because he feared that she would wake only to see that he was gone.  
He had no clue what she could do in this feverish state, so he stayed by her side.

He had tried to feed her soup, but she couldn't keep it in. She seemed thirsty whenever he offered water, but she didn't awake.  
It gave him more time than he needed to ponder. He stared at her face, so innocently in the glow of the fire, and realised that he could still see the young Lucy in the face of her elder counterpart, as if she had never left. He had only begun to love her even more.

He could not really recall the moment when he had began to actually love her more than a friend would do. Perhaps while he saw her swim with her siblings in the river near Cair Paravel, when mrs. Beaver had pointed out that she growing into a beautiful woman. She had been fifteen at the time perhaps, sixteen. He couldn't remember. He did remember that he agreed with mrs. Beaver, suddenly looking with different eyes at his Lucy, no longer seeing the tiny girl with the cute laugh, but the young woman she would become soon enough.  
Perhaps he had begun loving her the moment he had given her the poppy, when he began blushing whenever she tugged at his ears and scarf. The first time when she was angry when Oreius and Susan went out for a ride and they asked her not to come along, so he had taken her out for a walk. He still felt a twinge of adoration as he remembered her pout. It were the tiny things that had made him love her even more. The moment she awoke when he said her name in the morning, as he had done for years. The moments he waved her goodbye when she went with her siblings through the entire of Narnia to whatever her siblings needed to attend to, when he couldn't come along. Her wholehearted greeting, usually jumping into his arms, when she returned.

The first time he had noticed that her bosom was also becoming that of a woman and his blush when she had asked him what dress she could wear. He had not known how fast to get mrs. Beaver, while trying to keep the blush in check. He was fairly certain mrs. Beaver had noticed, as she had taken over that duty from him without another word.  
When had his little Lucy turned into a woman, since when could he no longer look upon her, be with her, like they had done when she had been younger?  
He absently touched her cheek, she turned her head, following the touch of his fingers with her nose.  
There were several reasons why he had not wanted to fall in love with her, and he had fallen in love with her alright; head over heels. He was a Faun, she was a Human, a royal Human girl. She would have become a Queen if she hadn't gone after him. There was no way a Queen could marry a Faun. Queens of Narnia married Sea gods and River gods, creatures of Queenly standards. What would become of the Royal Family of Narnia if they married creatures of simple families such like Fauns and Satyrs, animals even?  
Surely that couldn't be.  
But she had gone after him, a little voice in his head reasoned. To get him back yes, because she missed him. Probably, most certainly not because she loved him.

She saw him as a friend, a very dear friend. Not of anything else in the direction he was thinking. Dared to think.  
Another sigh escaped his lips as his shoulders slumped. What was he thinking, he was even ashamed to let such a thought wander into his mind. He had been her guardian, a father in many ways while she grew up. It felt like betrayal to even think of her like that.  
He grabbed both his ears, tugging while his heart treacherously ached. Even if she loved him, how would Susan react? Or even Peter?  
His love for her simply had no future, she would have made it so much simpler if she had just stayed away.  
But she hadn't, little Lucy always wanted to help.  
She wasn't helping him now in any way, but he couldn't hate her for it. He crossed his arms for his chest, dozing off in the warmth of the fire. Perhaps Oreius would be smart enough and find his way to his cave, if he even remembered where he lived at all. Tumnus had no high regards of the centaur, even if the Kings did. Oreius was strong, but Tumnus wasn't sure whether he could call him smart. Even if they found him and Lucy, he first had some explaining to do, a lot of explaining, and probably Lucy couldn't be taken back to Cair Paravel any time soon, weak as she was.  
Little Lucy Pevensie had a way of making things very complicated sometimes, just when she had tried to steal some cookies from the cook, ruining the banquet in the process .A smile curled Tumnus' lips as he recalled the memory.  
He hoped she had an explanation for this, all of this when she would wake, hopefully in the morning. Admittedly, he had some explaining to do as well, but whether he had the courage to do so, he did not know


	5. Chapter Five

I am sooooo sorry for not updating for so long! All these things have happened lately, and do you believe it; I spend HALF A YEAR without my faithful computer, internet or microsoft word!

And also without the files of 'noble thoughts and wishful thinking!'

So I have a lot to catch up to, I think…

Anyways, here is the second chapter; I promised a little Oreius and Susan, so here goes! I have something in store for Edmund as well, hehe. But first; a new chapter!

Thank god, finally…

Chapter six

Cair paravel had fallen into silence as finally the last guests had said their goodbyes and had left the mighty castle. At a loss for something to do Susan dwelled through the giant hall, stared at all the decorations, hanging so idly from the pillars now that there was no feast or celebrations any more.

Everything was still and silent. All those who could had set out to find Lucy who had so abruptly disappeared without telling anyone, leaving her sibling in a state of distress. Peter had instantly given the order to the centaurs, the fauns, the satyrs and all the talking animals who could spare four good legs to go and find the youngest Queen, but all had returned with nothing. The weather had turned for the worse, and even though Susan would have liked at least some news, good or bad, she couldn't fault anyone for returning to the castle now that a storm raged over Narnia.

All she could do was wait, listen to Edmund's advice to not fret so much, that Lucy probably know what she was doing, and Peter's reassurance that everything would be fine, that all they could do was wait.

So Susan waited. Dwelled through Cair Paravel with nothing to do, save telling everyone to clear the tables as there was no one to eat the food that had taken so long to be prepared. Pull down the decorations as there was no one to stare at them in awe. Clear the grass from the grand hall, as there were no hooves to damage the marble underneath.

But she had retracted the order to destroy the beautiful floor made of grass. Had found it a pity, and somewhere deep inside, she hoped that Lucy would return soon enough for the feast to continue, as if nothing had happened.

But four days had passed.

Lucy's mare had returned without a rider.

One of the racoons had returned with a slipper. A lion had found a ribbon. But no one had found Lucy.

Hugging herself Susan wandered towards the four thrones, tried to swallow the tears as she felt the grass underneath her bare feet. She wasn't crying because the feast had been postponed. She wasn't crying because all the work was now for nothing, despite what her siblings thought of her. She was worried for Lucy, almost to the point that she was making herself sick. She merely… masked it, by trying to sound angry, by pulling down the decorations and acting as if it was a horrible thing that Lucy had just run off, in the midst of a grand feast, leaving them with nothing. Not even a hint of where she had gone off too, or a word, written on a piece of paper.

The anger had subsided the moment mrs. Beaver had told her that Lucy was nowhere inside Cair Paravel, and that one of the mares was missing.

Susan hadn't known what to do. The sudden feeling of panic had taken over, had caused her to go into a fit which she now felt ashamed of. She had shouted, yelled at the centaurs to find them, as if she were a kenau, someone who couldn't stand the thought of losing control. As if all she cared for was that feast, and not Lucy.

She found herself staring at Lucy's throne, still decorated, waiting for it's queen.

Where had she gone off to? Where had she gone? And why?

Susan couldn't put her finger on it. Had Lucy been stressed about the fact that she would not officially become a queen, equal in right compared to her siblings? Was that it?

Did she feel as if her freedom was threatened in some way? Had she lost the desire to become a Queen of Narnia? What had been the thing that had driven Lucy to the point that she abandoned everyone and everything at Cair Paravel, disappearing in thin air?

"My Queen?"

A deep, harmonious voice pulled her out of her circling thoughts, made her twirl on her heel, and stare into the ebony eyes of Oreius. The centaur had startled her, up to the point that her mouth formed a slight 'o'.  
"Have I startled you, my Queen?" The centaur asked, took a step forward to the steps leading to the thrones, "Please know that it was not my intention."

"Oreius." Susan finally said, finding that her voice had not left her completely. "Please tell me that you have word of my sister."

"Alas, my Queen, I have not."

A pang of disappointment flared through her heart as Oreius spoke those words, but she held a brave face, tried not to show that she had hoped to hear that her sister was found.

"Then why are you here?" The tone of her voice was sharper than she had wanted it to be, but she said no apology. Glancing away from the centaur, she locked her gaze at the throne once more, found that she centaur's presence was suddenly an annoyance, while she normally found it enjoyable. "Why are you not outside with the others, trying to find your missing queen?"

Oreius bowed, seemed unswayed by her lack of kindness, which she silently thanked Aslan for.

"I merely came to see how you were faring, my lady." The centaur said, his face unreadable.

"I'm fine." Susan said. Even in her own ears the reply sounded false. "I have never been better." Which was an even greater lie.

"My Queen once told me the tale of a magical wooden boy, who's nose would grow every time he told a lie."

At any normal circumstance Susan would've laughed at the amusement in Oreius voice, she would have praised his memory, but now his words filled her with irritations, and before she could help herself she spat; "Do you think it is funny to amuse me with children's stories while my sister was out there in the greatest storm Narnia has seen for years?!"

She felt a pang of guilt as she saw the shocked look in the eyes of their general, and her closest friend at court, and instantly regretted her word as Oreius uttered a startled; "Susan?"

A shocked silence fell in between them both, as both had no idea how to react. Finally, in an act of desperation Susan threw her hands in the air, let out a sob as she finally cried; "I'm sorry, Orieus! I don't know what I'm saying, forgive my temper, for I am not well today…"

"I think under these circumstances, I could forgive your short temper." The centaur said, crossing the distance between the queen and her general as a friend. "I do not feel crossed."

"I am sorry." Susan said again, as she sat down on her own throne. Orieus took a step forward, reached for a her hand as Susan offered it. She smiled as she felt the warmth coming from his hand as he held it lightly.

"You run through forest and over fields, trying to find my missing sibling and I repay you by being a witch who could easily match Jadis." She murmured, and laughed along with Oreius as he let out a hearty laugh. "You must be very tired."

"Centaurs do not sleep much, my Lady." He answered, bringing her hand to his lips, and placed a light kiss on her fingertips, causing a smile to appear on Susan's lips. "Forgive me, but I do wonder whether my Queen has had a good night's rest."

"No, I haven't, of course." She countered. "Lucy is out bantering through wild woods, my brother Edmund is telling me not to fret and my brother Peter tells me that everything will be all right!"

"Your brothers are very wise."

"Oh, hold your tongue." She muttered in an amused way, leaning back against the cold stone of her throne. "I wish I could do more." She sadly said, truly hoping there was a way to do more. But she was needed at Cair Paravel. She couldn't leave, not like Lucy had done. She was not free to jump on a horse's back and ride out to search for her sister, as Edmund had done.

"Then why don't you?" Oreius asked.

"Do what?"

"Do more."

"What do you mean?" She asked, frowning at the centaur who had been her friend longer than she could remember. Her consultant in times of need, her sparring partner in endless debates during long summer eves.

"Why don't you come along to find your missing sister?"

"Oh please Oreius," She withdrew her hand from his, not feeling well enough for jokes and games of make believe, "I can't leave. There is much to do at Cair Paraval."

"Like pulling down decorations? Taking care of the food that has never been eaten?"

"Exactly."

"But satyr women in the kitchen have already done that. The fauns have cleared Cair Paravel of all its decorations save the grand hall, and if I recall correctly, you wandered through the gardens and the castle, idly wishing your sister would return, listening to your brother's advice, while doing nothing yourself."

He was right, and she knew it, but she threw him a hateful glance as he bowed, excusing himself for his harsh words.

"And what would you have me do instead, my general?" She muttered, and Oreius laughed.

"I would have you come with me, to find her ourselves."

Susan stared at him for a moment, wondering whether the centaur was trying to tell a bad joke just to lift her spirits, or whether he meant every word he said. But the centaurs face remained stern and true, and she couldn't help but ask;

"You're not kidding."

"I am indeed not, my Queen."

"And if I would come with you, Orieus, what would everyone think? What would everyone think of me?"

"Does the Queen need permission of her people to leave Cair Paravel, when her aid is needed?" His eyes twinkled in amusement as he continued; "I remember my Queen being a great archer, can she not take care of herself anymore?"

"Oh, I can." She finally said, "And if I can't, I will bring along my horn and call for your aid."

They both chuckled at their own teasings, and for a moment they fell still and quiet. Both had a lingering smile before Susan said; "Do you think we could? You know, go off and find Lucy?"

"I am sure we can, my Queen." Oreius replied, a satisfied glint showed in his eyes as he realised he had won this round.

"When shall we leave?"

"In the morrow, I will meet you underneath the old blossom tree near the North gate."

Susan nodded, remembered the tree Oreius referred too. "All right, I will." She said, feeling rather defiant as she agreed to the strange pact so unlike her old friend and general. "What mount should I take?"

"Believe me when I say you won't need a mount, Highness."

"No mount?" Susan asked, perplexed, "Shall I need to use my own feet then?"

A rather mysterious smile graced Oreius as he turned on his hind leg, stepping away from the throne. "In the morrow, my Queen, underneath the old blossom tree," he said, allowing himself to smile as he left a puzzled Susan on her throne.

Susan watched her old friend go, and finally giggled as she realised she was really going through with the silly plan the centaur had come up with her. A strange warmth spread through her heart as she stood on the brink of doing something adventurous. No one had told her that she couldn't go and find Lucy, no one kept her at Cair Paravel.

She rose from her throne, a strange smile curling her lips as she descended from the stairs, and as her are feet touched the soft grass spread across the marble thoughts her mind was already consumed with thoughts of things she needed to pack, and to retrieve her bow and horn, before she would leave and find her bantering sibling.


End file.
